"Hey, Babe.... Did you hear that Robin Williams died?" I asked over dinner on Monday.
"He didn't die, he killed himself," The Agent answered.
"Well.... isn't that the same?"
"Well, at any rate, I think it's so sad. I mean, it would be terrible, no matter how he died. But to think that he thought life was so terrible that he thought this was the only way out.... I wish he could have gotten the help he needed." I was very much a fan of Robin Williams.
"He was overwhelmed," The Agent said bluntly.
"Overwhelmed? Why do you think that?"
"When I was 15, I had a dream. I was standing at a lake, with a teaspoon in my hand. I had to drain the lake with the teaspoon, and I remember being so overwhelmed by the task. When I woke up, I still had such a feeling of being overwhelmed. I wanted to do anything to stop that feeling. And the only thing I could think of to stop that feeling was to go to the kitchen and grab a steak knife. I had to use every ounce of control I had not to walk in to the kitchen. If I did, if I allowed myself to walk in there, I knew I would seriously injure, or even kill, myself."
I was shocked. "Babe.... wow. Do you still feel like that? Do we need to get you in to therapy? I can't lose you."
The Agent shook his head and smiled. "Nah, that was just me being 15. That happens to every teenager, right?"